J. K. Rowling All rights reserved; no part of this publication may be reproduced or

hic – 
manage – 
hic – 
all by himself ...’ 
‘Other people manage to do their own housework, you 
know, Winky,’ said Hermione severely. 
‘Winky – 
hic – 
is not only – 
hic – 
doing housework for Mr 
Crouch!’ Winky squeaked indignantly, swaying worse than 
ever and slopping Butterbeer down her already heavily stained 
blouse. ‘Master is – 
hic – 
trusting Winky with – 
hic – 
the most 
important – 
hic – 
the most secret –’ 
‘What?’ said Harry. 
But Winky shook her head very hard, spilling more 
Butterbeer down herself. 
‘Winky keeps – 
hic – 
her master’s secrets,’ she said muti-
nously, swaying very heavily now, frowning up at Harry with 
her eyes crossed. ‘You is – 
hic – 
nosing, you is.’ 
‘Winky must not talk like that to Harry Potter!’ said Dobby 
angrily. ‘Harry Potter is brave and noble and Harry Potter is 
not nosy!’ 
‘He is nosing – 
hic – 
into my master’s – 
hic – 
private and 
secret – 
hic – 
Winky is a good house-elf – 
hic – 
Winky keeps 
her silence – 
hic – 
people trying to – 
hic – 
pry and poke – 
hic –
’ 
Winky’s eyelids drooped and suddenly, without warning, she 
slid off her stool onto the hearth, snoring loudly. The empty 
bottle of Butterbeer rolled away across the stone-flagged floor. 
Half-a-dozen house-elves came hurrying forward, looking 
disgusted. One of them picked up the bottle, the others cov-
ered Winky with a large checked tablecloth and tucked the 
ends in neatly, hiding her from view. 
‘We is sorry you had to see that, sirs and miss!’ squeaked a 
nearby elf, shaking his head and looking very ashamed. ‘We is 
hoping you will not judge us all by Winky, sirs and miss!’ 
‘She’s unhappy!’ said Hermione, exasperated. ‘Why don’t you 
try and cheer her up instead of covering her up?’ 
‘Begging your pardon, miss,’ said the house-elf, bowing 

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468 H
ARRY
P
OTTER
deeply again, ‘but house-elves has no right to be unhappy 
when there is work to be done and masters to be served.’ 
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ said Hermione angrily. ‘Listen to me, 
all of you! You’ve got just as much right as wizards to be 
unhappy! You’ve got the right to wages and holidays and prop-
er clothes, you don’t have to do everything you’re told – look 
at Dobby!’ 
‘Miss will please keep Dobby out of this,’ Dobby mumbled, 
looking scared. The cheery smiles had vanished from the faces 
of the house-elves around the kitchen. They were suddenly 
looking at Hermione as though she was mad and dangerous. 
‘We has your extra food!’ squeaked an elf at Harry’s elbow, 
and he shoved a large ham, a dozen cakes and some fruit into 
Harry’s arms. ‘Goodbye!’ 
The house-elves crowded around Harry, Ron and Hermione, 
and began shunting them out of the kitchen, many little hands 
pushing in the smalls of their backs. 
‘Thank you for the socks, Harry Potter!’ Dobby called miser-
ably from the hearth, where he was standing next to the lumpy 
tablecloth that was Winky. 
‘You couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you, Hermione?’ 
said Ron angrily, as the kitchen door slammed shut behind 
them. ‘They won’t want us visiting them now! We could’ve 
tried to get more stuff out of Winky about Crouch!’ 
‘Oh, as if you care about that!’ scoffed Hermione. ‘You only 
like coming down here for the food!’ 
It was an irritable sort of day after that. Harry got so tired of 
Ron and Hermione sniping at each other over their homework 
in the common room that he took Sirius’ food up to the 
Owlery that evening on his own. 
Pigwidgeon was much too small to carry an entire ham up 
to the mountain by himself, so Harry enlisted the help of two 
school screech owls as well. When they had set off into the 
dusk, looking extremely odd carrying the large package 
between them, Harry leaned on the windowsill, looking out at 

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T
HE
M
ADNESS OF
M
R
C
ROUCH
469 
the grounds, at the dark, rustling treetops of the Forbidden 
Forest, and the rippling sails of the Durmstrang ship. An eagle 
owl flew through the coil of smoke rising from Hagrid’s chim-
ney; it soared towards the castle, around the Owlery and out of 
sight. Looking down, Harry saw Hagrid digging energetically 
in front of his cabin. Harry wondered what he was doing; it 
looked as though he was making a new vegetable patch. As he 
watched, Madame Maxime emerged from the Beauxbatons car-
riage and walked over to Hagrid. She appeared to be trying to 
engage him in conversation. Hagrid leant upon his spade, but 
did not seem keen to prolong their talk, because Madame 
Maxime returned to the carriage shortly afterwards. 
Unwilling to go back to Gryffindor Tower and listen to Ron 
and Hermione snarling at each other, Harry watched Hagrid 
digging until the darkness swallowed him, and the owls around 
Harry began to awake, swooshing past him, into the night. 
* 
By breakfast next day, Ron and Hermione’s bad moods had 
burnt out, and to Harry’s relief, Ron’s dark predictions that the 
house-elves would send sub-standard food up to the 
Gryffindor table because Hermione had insulted them proved 
false; the bacon, eggs and kippers were quite as good as usual. 
When the post owls arrived, Hermione looked up eagerly; 
she seemed to be expecting something. 
‘Percy won’t’ve had time to answer yet,’ said Ron. ‘We only 
sent Hedwig yesterday.’ 
‘No, it’s not that,’ said Hermione. ‘I’ve taken out a new sub-
scription to the